


the very best

by ahtohallan_calling



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and a little Angst, canonverse, elderly KA on their 50th anniversary :')
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahtohallan_calling/pseuds/ahtohallan_calling
Summary: All things considered, age has been kind to him, but where it sometimes fails, Anna never does.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	the very best

All things considered, age has been kind to him, but where it sometimes fails, Anna never does. She hums as she fastens each fiddly little button on the front of his shirt, taking her time with smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles before leaning in to kiss his cheek. It doesn’t quite surprise him anymore, but his eyes light up all the same. 

“All done,” she says cheerily before turning away from him. “Help me with my dress?”

Dresses that close with laces are no longer the fashion-- rows and rows of glass and pearl buttons are what his granddaughters swoon over-- but she has them made this way anyway, knows what it means to him to be able to help her every morning as he always has. He pulls the laces until they are secure, glad she has already slid them through the eyelets so he doesn’t have to embarrass himself by trying. He, too, takes longer than he needs to, nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck so he can inhale the scent of her rose and jasmine perfume before pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

She smiles and tilts her head back so she can kiss him properly. “Remember when we used to spend whole mornings doing this?”

He sets his hand on her waist, waggles his eyebrows. “How can I forget?”

“We can do that today if you want. I think we’ve earned it.”

He chuckles at her enthusiasm, still there despite the decades. “Tempting. But I think our daughter will have our heads if we don’t come down and help wrangle all the kids.”

“Oh! Do you think Lucia and Fredrik have brought their little one? What did they name her again?”

His heart lurches in his chest. “Anna, my darling. They named her after you, remember?”

For a moment she falters, then she gives him a sweet smile so bright he can almost forget that this is becoming a regular occurrence. “Just testing you!” she says before kissing his cheek once more and floating over to slip on her shoes. 

He follows, letting her put one hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. Her hand stays there as he steps into his own shoes, and then it slides down into the crook of his elbow so he can escort her downstairs. 

She looks longingly at the banisters as they pass by. It would certainly be faster to slide down them than to keep taking careful steps with creaky knees, but recovering from an accidental tumble at the end wouldn’t be so quick anymore. She sighs and leans against him a little with a fond smile, and he knows she’s remembering the days when they would race each other to the bottom, him taking the stairs two at a time as she slid, shrieking with glee, and he would catch her just in time for them to land in a flushed heap on the floor, skirts and laughter floating freely around them.

“I caught Peder sliding down them yesterday,” he tells her, and she grins; of their children, Peder had always been her most ardent student of mischief. 

“Good. Someone has to keep passing that tradition down.”

He laughs at that. “Trust me, he is. A little line of children followed him right after.”

They take their time at breakfast, smiling at each other over butter-laden toast and cups of tea with extra sugar. Their eldest bursts in just as Kristoff is helping himself to a second scoop of eggs and Anna is working through her third.

“Mama! Papa! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Ingrid gasps out, darting over to press a kiss on her mother’s cheek.

“Our routine hasn’t changed in ten years, Ingabug,” Kristoff says drily, patting her arm when she leans over his back to hug him around the neck.

“Oh, I know, it’s just I thought maybe you’d be out doing something special, or still up in your rooms, or just-- I don’t know, not every day is your fiftieth anniversary.”

He shrugs and reaches over to hold Anna’s left hand in his own, admiring for the millionth time the way the orange diamond of her engagement ring catches the light. “We just want to do things like normal, maybe a little slower so we can take time to enjoy it.”

“Every day feels like an anniversary with you,” Anna says with a flirtatious wink as if there is still any part of his heart she needs to win over. 

He blushes, and Ingrid gives them both a soft smile. “Alright, well, I won’t take much of your time, then.”

She sits down beside her mother so they can discuss a few of the less exciting details of governance; she’s played an active role in it all since her early twenties, but now there is a nearly even split of responsibility between mother and daughter, ensuring that when the time for a full transition comes, it will be a smooth one. He had worried that it would bother Anna, make her feel feeble when at last she had had to admit she couldn’t keep up the lightning pace she once maintained, but she had only smiled.

“She was born for this,” she reassured him, “and I’m glad I get to live long enough to see her come into her own like this. Besides, it means I get more time to pester you.”

She gets extra time for that today, since Ingrid insists she will take care of absolutely everything and their only job is to enjoy themselves. Kristoff doesn’t need to be told twice. Even now when most people their age have retired, it’s still difficult for them to get even an afternoon off.

When they were younger and full of boundless energy, they would have taken the opportunity to retreat upstairs to their bedroom and spend the whole day gloriously unclothed, but now he knows they’d fall asleep with their socks still on and waste all their time snoring. Instead, when she has finished her second cup of tea, he takes her by the arm again and leads her out into the streets of her beloved city.

She forgets her schedule and her great-granddaughter's name and where she set the hairbrush, but she remembers every little landmark that means nothing to anyone but them. They stop at her favorite bakery, the one she sent him to twice a day when she was pregnant with the twins, and even though they just ate they buy a piece of cake to share. "We're old, might as well enjoy ourselves while there's still time," she says cheerfully, and he grins and reaches over the table to wipe a smudge of frosting off her chin.

The art gallery is next, and they linger for nearly an hour. When it opened, Kristoff had attended the gala reluctantly, not looking forward to the small talk and tight sleeves, but then he'd seen a painting of a ship under the Northern Lights and been enraptured. He raved about it to Anna for the rest of the evening, how it reminded him of being a little boy and realizing just how vast the world really was for the first time. And then for his birthday a few weeks later, when she had given him a sketchbook and a set of watercolors, he'd nearly wept for joy. He's turned into a capable artist over the years, though now he can no longer hold a pencil long enough for more than a quick sketch. Looking, though, that's enough for him now, especially when it's accompanied by Anna's hand wrapped around his, squeezing tightly whenever she finds a painting she especially loves.

Their last stop is a spot on the docks that is entirely unremarkable, the view blocked by something no matter which way you turn, but there is a little bench there that their sons had built for them ten years ago, knowing what this place meant to them. He waits until she is seated, keeping his hand in hers as she settles herself before joining her, putting his arm over her shoulders as she leans her head against him.

Anna laces her fingers through his, and he knows she is smiling; it still amuses her how his hand dwarfs hers. "You know, one thing has gotten better with age. You're a way better kisser now than you were back then."

He feigns offense. "What, you didn't like my kissing?"

She giggles as if she is still that girl of eighteen he had already fallen in love with. "No! I mean no, I didn't  _ not _ like it. But it was the first time for both of us. Lots of drool."

"Mostly yours."

"Well-- alright, you're probably right. It was still  _ very _ romantic, though. But I'm grateful for all the practice since then."

He wishes he could kiss her like that again, sweep her off her feet and spin her like he used to when he was so overwhelmed with joy and love he couldn't contain it. Now he hasn't got half the strength he'd need, but the other part-- well. Some things never change.

He turns so he can kiss her forehead, smiling when he feels her nestle closer to him. "They'll start to wonder where we are, baby."

"Let them wonder. They'll figure it out eventually."

They will, and too soon for his liking; it's no secret that the pair of them have a habit of sneaking out to this spot at every opportunity. But for now there are more important things to care about, like the sun on his face and his wife at his side.

Anna leans up and kisses his cheek. "We've had a good run, haven't we?"

There is an air of finality to it, but one of peace as well. He understands; he's getting tired, too. He squeezes her hand again, the one with her rings, and whispers, "The very best."

**Author's Note:**

> ingrid is jilly and gabi's as always
> 
> HUGE credit to mary/kristoffbjorg for all her help <3


End file.
